


Eames and Daisy

by Mary_Jane221B



Series: Behind the Camera: NBT [3]
Category: Inception (2010), Next Big Thing AU
Genre: Fluff, Multi, NBT 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-25 22:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4979452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jane221B/pseuds/Mary_Jane221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames babysitting is potentially my new version of happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Next Big Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583) by [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



> Suprise! 
> 
> Rather than working on the small mountain of WIP's I have on my computer i'm starting a new one because it's sweet and fluffy and I wanted it so much that I just had to blow off everything else to bring it to fruition! 
> 
> Here we find Eames babysitting for Baby Daisy, the child of Joe 'The Driver' (who is actually unlikely to ever be a driver) and Harriet my favourite little 'OC' except maybe Daisy because I've fallen a little in love with this baby guys. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this because i'm writing it anyway and well you know it's nice to share the love.
> 
> Love as ever to the NBT Darling's and our Viscountess EGT who is the creator of this little AU universe. 
> 
> Smooches! 
> 
> RMJ x

Eames is not going to panic. That is step one of his master plan. He is not going to panic.

“Are you sure you don’t mind Eames? It’s a lot to ask we know.”

“No Harry, really, it’s fine.”

Eames is absolutely not going to panic because he can absolutely do this.

Baby Daisy continues to scream her displeasure at being woken from her mid afternoon nap from her car seat which Harry has propped, precariously in Eames opinion on the coffee table of his and Arthur’s living room.

Arthur, who isn’t here, hasn’t been here for a week now and won’t be back for another five days. Five long days of just Eames and baby Daisy. What could possibly go wrong? Daisy proceeds to spit up a frankly alarming amount of milk and Eames has a moment of complete clarity when he foresees exactly how much of a disaster this is going to be.  

The first morning passes with Eames managing to follow Harry’s step by step folder of instructions, the folder is subdivided and contains multiple colour coded sticky notes; complete with a key, and Eames acknowledges it’s possible that Harry has spent too much time with Arthur while building her own business empire.

When it comes time for Daisy’s first afternoon nap the instructions go like this;

1)  Eames the most important thing to remember is that Daisy doesn’t like to nap. She will fight you and sleep every moment of this routine before finally giving in and sleeping like the dead, until you have to wake her and you normally do have to wake her.

2)  Afternoon nap should begin at 2pm and be for between 40-50 minutes if you’re lucky. You’re probably not going to be lucky but don’t let her sleep for more than an hour or she’ll get hyper. Not the fun sort either.

3)  For her first afternoon nap you can feed her half a bottle of milk, she likes to be wrapped up in her blanket while you do this.

4)  You should rock her in your arms while singing something soft. The song doesn’t matter but it has to be something soft. Joe likes to sing classic rock whereas I go for musicals. Seriously she doesn’t care.

5)  Get her inside her sleep bag, this will either be easy if she’s being co-operative or she’ll completely wake up again and you need to go back to singing.

6)  Put her in the bassinet of her back when she’s starting to drop off, rock her a little and she should go quickly. Hang around for ten minutes just to make sure and then go enjoy half an hour of you time. I suggest face planting on your bed but whatever works.

7)  She also hates waking up. You should expect tears at both ends of a nap. Good luck.

Daisy actually falls asleep at some time during the first verse of ‘Pure Imagination’ and Eames wonders if he has magical baby powers. This new found baby confidence lasts until dinner time. She napped well waking herself up after forty five minutes and giggled with glee when he looked over the side of her bassinet to free her from what Eames thought was a complicated sleep set up.

She sat happily in her lady bird onesie while Eames attempted to mash a sweet potato and microwave himself some ‘real food’ that Timothy had left before leaving to visit his mother. Twenty minutes, five pans, a burnt finger and a stubbed toe later Eames perches on the stool next to Daisy’s highchair and presents her with the small dish of the slightly over mashed potato. He turns to his own dinner making yummy noises at the beef stroganoff and rice that is only slightly under cooked.

His happiness lasts approximately five minutes Daisy then screams loudly and Eames almost falls off his stool.

“Jesus Daisy give a boy some warning.”

Turning to his goddaughter hoping the cause of her distress will be obvious, which it is, and easily solved, which ends up being debatable.  She has decorated every available surface, including herself, with sweet potato. She looks vaguely like an Oompa Loompa or someone wearing a terrible amount of fake tan.

Eames wants to laugh he really does because if he doesn’t laugh he might just cry.

Once the baby and the kitchen have been returned to some semblance of normality he lays Daisy on her brightly coloured play mat and tries to lose himself in the emails his and Arthur’s current clients have bombarded them with today. Even the monotonous task of soothing their ruffled feathers offers him little comfort when every squeak from his vaguely orange tinted charge drags his attention away from the screen and back to her.

He gives up eventually and crawls across the carpet to lie on his side next to the mat and engage Daisy’s in one of their legendary staring competitions. How the little girl manages to combine staring with trying to chew her own toes he never figures out but the little noises of glee she makes when he reaches out and flicks one of the dancing birds above her head makes up for the stress of dinner time.  

“We’re not doing too badly Daisy. It’s been,” Eames checks the watch Arthur bought him for his Christmas that year, “eight hours since Mummy dropped you off and nothing is on fire, the house is still standing and I haven’t tried to convince you physics isn’t real, yet, Daddy owes me twenty dollars and we shall tell him that when he calls this evening.”  Daisy garbles her agreement around her spit covered fist. Eames wonders if it tastes like sweet potato.

She gets fussy about half an hour later after a quick change they settle down with a bottle to wait for Joe or Arthur to call.

Arthur would normally have texted throughout the day but had held off as promised to allow Eames to adapt to Daisy time.  Eames had sent off a few picture messages of Daisy in various stages of glee throughout the day and had been treated to an answering selfie to each of them. His favourite had come in response to the picture of the little girl sitting in the baby bath sweet potato still visible in her hair; the shot of Arthur’s face dimples’ pronounced and biteable had made Eames heart throb. 

Daisy was just starting to dose when the I Pad makes an obnoxiously loud ringing noise. Eames makes a grab for it thinking more about the noise disturbing the baby than the fact his jostling her will undoubtedly deliver the same result. Sure enough as he swipes the screen to answer the call both he and Arthur’s mother are treated to a high pitched wail of annoyance from inside the fluffy blanket cocoon Eames has created for the little girl balanced in the crook of his arm.

“Oh dear that doesn’t sound good.” Laura says sympathetically. “Is this a bad time Eames?”

“Don’t worry Laura I’m incompetent enough that it’s been happening all day.”

Laura shakes her head at him through her tiny webcam, the image is off centre and Eames wonders’ if she realises the top half of her forehead has been lost with the camera positioning.

“You’re not incompetent Eames you’re just new at this. How’s your first day been? Arthur sent me one of the pictures and I just wanted to check in.”

“Oh you know its fine. I’ve looked after her before.”

“I know you have dear but it’s a little different doing it full time isn’t it.”

Eames looks guiltily down at the still grousing bundle and acknowledges that yes it is very different.  He’s never looked after her for this long without Arthur being here as well and he acknowledges now that he tends to let the other man take the more difficult tasks while they babysit and he gets to focus on the fun tasks like tummy time and various baby apparatus construction.  The bassinet Arthur had bought when babysitting became more of a regular occurrence had taken Eames two days to build and he’d nearly lost a finger in the process.  

“Arthur normally does the more complicated aspects. Like naps and feeding. I’m better at the fun.”

He looks up to find Laura staring at him with a slightly dewy eyed smile.

“You’re both good with her Eames; I saw that at Christmas. You’re going to end up believing in yourself a lot more by the time this week is over.”

Eames smiles slightly at her faith in him. She’s so like Arthur sometimes.

“Hopefully, Arthur and Joe are back in five days anyway so we’ve only got to survive that long don’t we Daisy.” He winks at the camera and Laura titters in response.

“Alright my favourite son in law to be I’ll leave you to it. Give her a kiss from me won’t you. I miss her little face.” Eames tilts the screen so Laura can see the tiny riot of blonde hair and doll features hiding within the feather boa blanket in his arms. He lets her coo at the baby for a few minutes before waving goodbye and ending the call.

Picking up his phone he fires off a text to Arthur and Joe accompanying it with a picture of the sleeping girl.

**Sending Laura to check on me boys? Shame on you.**

**Youngest member of the clan is ready for bed so I’m off to follow Harry’s extensive list of instructions.**

**Wish me luck.**

Arthur sends him a picture of himself blowing a kiss at the camera.  While Joe call's during his daughter’s feed wanting to sing her to sleep over Facetime. Eames makes a valiant effort not to listen to the man’s lullaby rendition of a song by Billy Joel.  Joe stays on the phone while Eames lays Daisy down and dims the guest room’s lights.  Tiny stars dance across the walls and ceiling when Eames flicks the second switch for the nightlight.

He fills Joe in on the day’s events and promise’s to send more pictures tomorrow before hanging up and collapsing on his and Arthur’s bed. He should really get undressed or at least make some move toward removing the mountain of pillows that are currently restricting his breathing but can’t find the energy to do much more than shimmy his belt off and kick off his shoes. He’s half asleep by the time his phone rings again.

“Darling?” He says half muffled by the feather cushion currently under his face. He hears Arthur’s radiant chuckle over the line and manages to roll onto his side so his mouth is at least free of the too soft material.

“Hello dear, how was your day?” Eames wants to tell him that his teasing is not welcome. He wants to whinge and complain that the day had been impossible and he’s exhausted and filthy and has no idea how he’s going to drag himself out of bed when their dearest Goddaughter undoubtedly wakes up in a few hours. But he says none of that. Instead he remembers her giggle, the soft weight of her in his arms while he rocked her to sleep and answers honestly.

“Magical Darling, now tell me about the beauty of Paris until I fall to sleep.” Eames demands as he drags Arthur’s pillow out from under their pillow mountain and curls up around it. Arthur’s scent has diminished due to his absence but Eames still likes it next to him when he finally drifts off. 


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames remembers that babies don't always like sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a vague mention to the fic I co-wrote with Entrecomillas and named by EarlGreyTea 'A Love Story, Only Partly About Coffee' is one of the favourite things i've ever written and that's likely because of the amazingly talented co-writer that spent an evening with me in our Reddit thread making a post- Fixer Upper fic about love, sex, coffee and some very light bondage ;-) 
> 
> Peace and Love to your all
> 
> Smooches RMJ X

“I feel that there’s a certain amount of surety my dear Daisy that you’re done with sleep for the night.” They lay on the floor of the guest bedroom Eames head cushioned by the room’s sheepskin rug, Arthur’s version of gag gift some weeks earlier, with Daisy laying on her back beside him the fingers of her right hand stuck in her mouth as they watched stars spin around the still shut off bedroom light.

Eames curls in tight around her touching her nose and making a popping noise whenever she took a swipe at him with her left.

“Your uncle Arthur would inform me I am providing you with too much stimulation so early in the morning but it’s four a.m. so I’m not thinking too clearly right now.”  Eames lets out a large yawn before considering precisely what one did at four in the morning. He’d never been a jogger like Arthur and Joe’s advice had been;

_“If she wakes you up more than five times in one evening I’d give up and make coffee.”_  

Eames made it to six separate screaming fits before moving into the guest room’s bed and another two before giving in and lifting her from the bassinet to join him on the floor.

Normally Arthur handles all early morning wake up calls and general pre nine a.m. Baby Daisy business. By nine she was normally down for a morning nap and Eames considered Arthur’s ‘attentions’ fair game for that half hour or so. Eames had learnt the tricks to the morning seduction of Arthur early on in their relationship.

Arthur had a rule back when they first started dating that no one was allowed to disturb him before his first cup of coffee. He claimed it was for everyone's own good because he was a terror before his first caffeine hit of the day. Eames had become used in the first three years of their relationship to being the exception to that rule. He had slowly seduced Arthur into lazy morning sex which dissolved into warm cuddles and sleepy morning confessions. He'd learnt about Arthur's secret love of warm cinnamon rolls on one such occasion and had exploited it on numerous occasions since. Sticky lipped cinnamon flavoured kisses were a thing of beauty.

The thing Eames loves about Arthur first thing in the morning is his softness; the softness of his hair, the warmth of his body, even the light exhalations of morning breath were sweet to Eames when they were delivered into this world by Arthur. His dimples were more prominent and his general temperament lacked the sharp edge that Arthur facing up against the world had in abundance. First thing in the morning it was just them, in their bed, in their home safe in the knowledge that they had each other to take on the challenges each day tended to bring when you chose to work in the professions they had chosen for themselves.

Daisy brought him out of his early morning ponderings with a shriek of glee. She had managed to implement of latest talent of rolling over without Eames noticing. She lays on her belly, seemingly surprised at her own achievement; her arms wave in front of her face and her legs kicked the empty air in what looked to be a poor estimation of a butterfly stroke.  

“Aren’t you clever Baby Girl! We should take a video to send to Mummy and Daddy.” Eames pulls his phone in close to Daisy and tickled her side lightly to make her movements become exaggerated as she tried to ward off his attentions.  “And here we have Daisy Louise showing the world how the early morning butterfly stroke should be done!” Eames narrates for Joe and Harry’s benefit. “She started her practice early by waking her coach up before the sun was fully risen but boy is she using that extra time well. Just look at her go!” Daisy squawks in protest at being used as entertainment for the common folk and Eames is quick to roll her onto her back. “Say hello to Mummy and Daddy Daisy! We should practice your French so you can impress Daddy and Arthur shouldn’t we?” Daisy blows her lips together for the camera and commences sucking on her fist again.

Eames laughs and turns the camera so it can see his face as well “Alright Joey we’re going to take that as lesson one in Bonjour and go from there. She’ll be fluent by the time you’re back don’t worry.” Daisy starts up a worrying cry behind him which has Eames grimacing for the camera and turning the video off.

“I’m sorry Princess was I not paying you enough attention.” Eames stands with her safely tucked in his arm so he can make his way around the silent house to the kitchen where he’s glad to remember he’ll find some pre-made bottles. Bless you past Eames for thinking of some things in advance. “I’m not as good at this as Uncle Arthur. He’s been doing morning wake up’s with you since you were tiny and first came to stay with us because Mummy and Daddy were going crazy on no sleep.  Do you remember our first sleepover? I bet you don’t you were so small.” Daisy’s shouts morph from genuine distress into their milder ‘I protest at your slow pace puny mortal’ version so Eames reckons story time was the right way to go.

Their first experience of babysitting had gone like this;

 *4 a.m.*

 Daisy screamed violently from the bassinet Eames had lovingly set up in the corner of their bedroom the day before.  Clearly the placement of the thing had been a damn mistake.

"Darling if you get her this time I will love you forever."

Arthur grumbled in reply, his face pressed between Eames shoulder blades, as they slept with Arthur curled around Eames in a too warm embrace and Eames knew his begging has worked when he felt soft lips press against him.  Arthur, shirtless post baby spit up and with his pyjama bottoms hanging low on his hips, shuffled across their bedroom floor to the distressed bundle currently swaddled tightly against the October chill. Eames could just make out Arthur's voice rumbling out soothing noises before Eames himself gave in to the sirens call of sleep once again.

He woke minutes later to the shadow of Arthur bent at the waist slipping on his shoes. Daisy lay on their bed quietly murmuring her feet loose from her blanket now kicking in the quiet morning light.

"Darling?" Eames croaked out.

"Go to sleep Mr. Eames." Arthur answered softly pausing in tying his shoes to meet Eames half open eyes.

"Hmm...no petal where are you going it's just gone four."  

"I'm taking the baby for a jog, she won't settle, I'm hoping being out in the pushchair will help get her to sleep again."

Eames yawned wide and he heard the ghost of Arthur's chuckle over his exaggerated noise.

"Go to sleep Love. I've got her." Arthur murmured planting a kiss on the nearest part of Eames, his hand in this case. Eames felt the bed shift as Arthur leant down to bundle Daisy up tighter. He would have layers on her Eames knew but he can't help but blurt out before Arthur left.

"Don't forget her hat."

He was asleep again before he registered Arthur's answer.

*****

Eames has them propped against the kitchen counter, Daisy happily sucking down a warmed bottle, by the time he yawns through the retelling of their first night. Eames had slept for a further four  hours that morning waking to a world where Arthur had already done a large portion of his work for the day and his boyfriend and their Goddaughter were thick as thieves. Ever since Daisy and Arthur had been stuck together like glue whenever they were in each other’s vicinity.

What Eames didn’t know at that point was that this would continue throughout their lives and that when for Daisy’s sixteenth birthday her grandparent’s bought her two tickets for a week in Paris she would thrust the second ticket at Arthur without a second thought and the two would swan off on the first of what would become their annual European adventure. By the age of twenty five Daisy would have seen more of Europe than Eames.

He also didn’t know that when at the age of seventeen she kissed her first girl, closely followed by her first boy, she would come running to Eames in a state because she was nervous about how her family or Arthur would react to her newly reasoned out bisexuality. Eames would be more concerned with where her own notions of their impending judgment had come from than any actual judging that would take place. There would be none and he knew it but he couldn’t figure out why she didn’t. Especially the idea of it coming from Arthur of all people.

They would reason out that it wasn’t so much the judgment she feared but people telling her she was too young to know herself and her sexuality. That was the moment Eames dragged her to her other uncle’s study to have him recount his own, slightly embarrassing, coming out story. Even Arthur had had moments of panic Eames would reason to himself and resolve not to worry overly about the panic she was feeling in this moment. It would all work out. He would make sure of that.

But Eames didn’t know any of that yet. What he knew was that he was holding a half asleep seven month old in his arms, in his mostly empty house, facing another day without the love of his life. He looks over to the glass white board and basks in the presence of Arthur’s precise scrawl for a while.

12th – 24th Arthur in Paris! ‘American Boy in Paris’ filming. Please look at the board Eames!

He had filled it with plenty of serious notes from their schedule which had been thrown off massively when Harry had called in a flap. In one of his rare moments of organisational prowess Eames had delegated jobs to relevant people and called in reinforcements from any of his old contacts to keep their current projects running smoothly. He was reachable by mobile but with Paul in charge he didn’t expect to be needed and so now Arthur’s precisely constructed timetable had been edited to include the massive words.

DAISY COMING TO STAY!!!

And had been decorated by Eames fair hand with a drawn boarder of daisy flowers he was considering petitioning Arthur to keep.

When he looks down to the little girl in question he doesn’t feel surprised to find her still lightly sucking on the empty bottle with her eyes closed.

“Seriously, now you sleep, all you needed was a full tummy is that it, you’re so like your Dad sometimes it hurts me inside Daisy- Lou.”  

Eames wanders the halls for a while with Daisy balanced on his shoulder trying to decide if putting her down for a little while longer in the bassinet was worth it. In the end the lure of his own bed beckons him and he builds a small fortress of pillows around the sleeping girl to keep her safe from using her new skills to the detriment of her health and curls up for a quick power nap himself.   


	3. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three. A trip to the beach and some shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Happy Sunday to you all. 
> 
> Currently nursing my broken toe and hoping I found all the little errors in this update. 
> 
> There's some Eames, some Daisy and the return of an NBT fan favourite. 
> 
> ta ta for now pretty people.
> 
> RMJ X

Eames is going to make it to the beach before the baby wakes up. He’s going to manage it and he’s not going to break any laws on route. He won’t get lost, he has the GPS set up and he’s actually following its instructions to the letter.

Everything is going to be fine Eames reassures himself for the sixth time in half an hour. Daisy has been asleep for the majority of their journey, he’d timed the drive to coincide with her morning nap but he had terrible visions of her waking up, screaming her little head off, when they were half way to the coast with him stuck in the front and her all alone. But that didn’t matter because they were nearly there and she hadn’t even stirred so there was really no reason to panic.

Eames does make it to the beach before she wakes up but not without breaking any laws, stupid stop sign hiding from him. In fact he makes it all the way through unloading the boot and figuring out how to attach the baby carrier to himself before she even stirs.

“Hello Little Lady,” Eames says as he lifts her out of her car seat and holds her close as she struggles to come to terms with the brighter, colder, waking world. Even in the shaded cover of the boardwalk Eames is quick to balance the floral sun hat on top of her blonde locks. He attempts to co-ordinate loading her into the carrier while she’s still half asleep but quickly gives it up as a bad job. He juggles Daisy, which results in a disproportionate amount of grizzling from said child, and the carrier so he can sling it back in the car before walking over the wooden planks and down the steps into the still cool sand. 

It’s before ten and the beach is basically empty so Eames selects the best place for them not too far from the protective shade of the boardwalk but close enough to the ocean that the sand close by has a few different textures for Daisy to explore. They settle on a blanket in the sand and sit quietly watching the waves for a while before Daisy grows restless. She stretches out from Eames lap her tiny fingers dipping into the soft sand Eames moves to hold her over. They both watch silently as she draws her hand up pulling with it a small stream of soft sand.  She seems fascinated by how much she can pull up at any one time so Eames lets her play resting against his arm for balance. She’s not as mobile as Eames reasons she would like to be. He can see her sometimes struggling with the realities of her body developing slower than her mind. She loves to explore and basks in the praise she gets for rolling over or making the first moves towards crawling. But each failure results in crying and frustrated toy throwing.

Just such a moment occurs when Eames lets himself get distracted by circling seagulls, he watches them fly in circles before diving in pairs toward the likely beach scraps, Daisy lets out a shriek when she falls face first into the sand her tiny arm still outstretched toward the shiny shell Eames can see half sticking out of the sand. His movements are panicked as he draws her toward him using wet wipes to clean the sand off her face and only slowing his movements when he realises his jerky movements and the tone of his comforting noises have resulted in a screaming fit loud enough to draw the attention of the small amount of patrons the beach already has.

“God I’m sorry Daisy. Please don’t cry, here I’ll get all the horrible sand off you,” He controls the shake of his hands as he gently wipes the sand from her eyebrows and the sides of her mouth. “You’re alright Daisy, uncle Eames shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” She was still crying but less ferociously than before. “Were you trying to reach that shell?” Eames turns his body so she can see the place the shell rests and sure enough her tears morph from what Eames thinks of as ‘fearful’ to something more demanding and he very nearly laughs.  Leaning over the short distance to retrieve the cause of the drama he hands it to her and watches her eyes light up as she traces her fingers across the curved, irregular edge and the divots of outer edge.

“It’s a scallop shell Daisy.” He points to the ocean “Normally there would be two joined together like this,” Eames holds his hands in front of Daisy’s face and when she’s fully engaged, the shell still clutched in her tiny fist, he snaps his hands together in a loud clap that has his goddaughter laughing.  “Let’s go search for some more Little Love, I bet there’s some great shells.”

They spend a very happy half hour walking through the soft sand. Daisy resting on Eames hip pointing to anything that catches her eye; often times these objects are shells but occasionally pieces of dry seaweed and pebbles are deemed worthy of saving in their little pail. Eames refuses to collect the bottle caps that Daisy points out excitedly stepping over them to distract Daisy with a small crab making its way back to its ocean home.  They track its progress, Eames doing a fair impression of crab walking while Daisy applauds his cleverness from her position of safety. 

They follow it all the way into the ocean’s edge before waving it off on its underwater journey.

“Do you want to go for a paddle Daisy?” Daisy treats Eames to an Arthurian look of disdain.

“Come on baby girl it’s not that cold.” Eames holds the squirming girl just above the water so she can kick up waves without getting her sun dress wet. The volume of her giggles increases as the size of the splashes do the same, she’s wriggling so much that Eames begins to feel unsteady with his hold on her and hoists her up, much to his Goddaughter’s frustration. He earns himself a bop on the nose for his caution.

Making their way back up the beach Daisy points out more objects of interest, some shells, some trash and the occasion piece of loose change some poor sap had dropped, some of which Eames chooses to repossess to decorate whatever sand sculpture he could manage to build with the materials they have. Back at their now sand covered base, a light breeze had kicked a far deal of the looser sand onto their blankets; Eames set them up with buckets and spades and tries to coach Daisy in the very British past time of sandcastle building.  She didn’t seem too bothered by the process but the results of a fresh structure to knock down met with a great deal of approval.

***

They are most of the way home before Eames remembers the long list of errands he was supposed to run on the way back through Boston. He has been trying to finalise his ‘Arthur’s Birthday Bonanza’ plans while the man himself was out of the country but kept coming up blank on the present front. Eames had ideas, he had unending lists of ideas, but translating them into real life objects or trips always took time, which he was rapidly running out of.

He’s nearing the exit for Worcester when he thinks to pull in at Giacomo’s on the way through and see about some new pocket squares or ties or something small to maybe get the ball rolling on a big plan. Giacomo’s is like an Arthur haven so inspiration is sure to be found within its’ walls he tells himself. 

Daisy babbles excitedly to her new stuffed crab as Eames drags the pushchair and assorted baby detritus into the store. There’s another customer at the counter when they come in which puts Eames out a little because he has become spoilt enough to expect Giacomo’s full attention when he makes his way into this store. He takes a seat and frees Daisy from her constraints to wait for this usurper to be done with their business. He seems to be buying ties and Eames is further put out by the purely monochromatic appearance of their choices. Firstly a white tie is a stupid idea because even if you’re the most impeccable eater in the universe your dining partners are unlikely to be and secondly if the man intended to use them for bondage the cheap course material was likely to chafe in a most unpleasant way. Giacomo catches Eames eye while his new customer is bent over the display case at the front of the store checking the detail engraved on the tie pins and rolls his eyes for Eames benefit.

“What does this one say?” The poorly dressed man says obnoxiously tapping his finger on the glass case. “This silver one at the front. What is an ‘Armes’ precisely?”

Eames beams at Giacomo’s poorly contained smile. “Ah sir that is the moniker of one of Boston’s most ferocious power couples. One of the fine gentlemen is a customer here. I keep it on display as a sign of respect.” Eames enjoys the fact Giacomo is always less Italian for his customer’s that aren’t Eames or Arthur. Eames enjoys being thoroughly British in here but he enjoys Giacomo being thoroughly Italian more. The man is secretly playful; something the vast majority of his patrons would likely scoff at if they knew. Who needed a playful tailor? The answer was obviously Arthur but Eames allows himself ponder other potential answers while he waits and Daisy is contentedly chewing on the teething ring she had brought with her from the car.

The man, who is clearly of connoisseur of terrible taste, selects a gold tie pin which features an alarmingly large purple stone and Eames gives him approximately two hours before that tie pin is pinched by some lift fingered thief.  Daisy babbles angrily at his back when he leaves the shop and Eames nods vigorously at her in agreement, that man was an idiot.

“Giacomo!” Eames bellows in a delayed greeting.

“Buonasera Mr. Eames and look who you bring to see me. Ciao Daisy. Piccola not so small anymore though,” Eames offers the little girl over and Giacomo, who is endowed with a strong confidence with babies, bounces her on his hip as they walk through the store. Eames, overtly behaving like an aficionado of fashion peruses the materials Giacomo knows he favours Arthur in currently. There’s a light knit in navy that looks promising but buying Arthur suits doesn’t strike him as special enough for a birthday, he would voluntarily sit through an afternoon of Arthur perusing the store himself but that’s because he loves the man and fashion makes him happy.

“I need pocket squares Giacomo and ties, maybe a bowtie, he doesn’t do bow ties very often does he?”

“No I have only known Arthur wear bow ties with tuxedos, will he be in a tuxedo.” Eames shrugs in response because he has yet to decide where they will be going or if there will be the need for formal wear. Arthur did enjoy the occasional tuxedo though…

“It might be nice for him to have some anyway; do you think I could get away with them in anything but black?” Giacomo raises an eyebrow at him while dangling a length of silk in front of Daisy, it looks remarkably like the material Arthur had worked into the lining of his last suit and Eames watches as daisy reaches out for it, captures it and then brings it against her face in glee.  “You’re going to need to add the silk to my bill she’s unlikely to let it go now she’s got it.”

“Ah patatina may have it for free. She must be taught good taste now while she is free from other,” Giacomo looks over Eames outfit with a grin, “more outlandish influences.” Eames shakes his head and the cheek and moves to the pocket squares selecting a few droll options as well as a number he knows Arthur will favour. The royal purple is a must though. “You have ties for these, yes?” Eames holds his selection above his head and releases them when Giacomo walks past on route to the ties.

“Did you want a bowtie? I might have some.”

“Let’s see.” Giacomo turns and offers him the lengths of material all of which Eames thinks are appropriate before his eyes fall on one in particular. The material seems to be black on first inspection but when held up to the light a purple tint in evident. Eames loves it, there’s something almost magical about the way the colour shifts depending on your angle. He marches to the nearest mirror and flips his collar up. He’s not got a top button so this isn’t going to be the neatest of bows but he does his best.

“Ah a very nice choice Mr. Eames, but for you, not Arthur.”

“Do you think?”

That’s how Eames ends up getting measured for his first bespoke suit in years, Giacomo moves around him like a whirlwind placing pins and marking borders with chalk. Eames hates getting measured up for things, there’s something about being manhandled by some bloke looking over your body critically which turns his stomach but Giacomo is efficient and kind and Daisy provides a pleasant distraction as Eames watches her babble to her toy crab on a blanket Giacomo had magically had in the back.

“What story are you telling your crab Daisy?” Eames asks as his goddaughter beams up at him. “Are you telling him how your uncle looks very silly getting fitted for a monkey suit?” Giacomo ‘accidently’ pokes him with a pin.

“No, she is telling him how happy her other uncle is going to be when he sees you in something that fits for once.”

“True true, stand still and think of Arthur, is that your advice Giacomo?”

“Hmmm perhaps not too hard, you’ll alter the fit.” Giacomo mocks and Eames laughs.

“Is this a bow tie worthy suit then?”

“Ah, perhaps not, but I have a straight tie in the same material. It will suit your chest better.”

“I will need a tie pin then, any suggestions?” Eames I proud to see the faint blush across the older man’s cheeks. “Do you have two? Arthur and I could wear them to an event. His fans would go crazy.”

“I think your own would as well Mr. Eames, they will love you in this suit, very suave.”

“Maybe, I don’t often do suave.”

“Ah you are British it is in your blood.”

“Is that so? So what with being Italian and all you must be a Lothario?” The man chuckles lightly, as he finishes pinning the lapels to sit properly against Eames chest. “No waistcoat?”

“No not for you. You are broader across the chest than Arthur, I want to maximise that with the cut.”  Giacomo pulls the material tight so Eames can see what effect he is talking about. The fit is snug but comfortable; Eames rolls his shoulders and reassures himself that he’ll still have a complete range of movement. “You look good. Very James Bond.”

“I’ve never gotten the attraction of Bond, man is stuck up and he’s ordering a weak martini while being pompous. Who does that?”  Eames can see Giacomo shake his head through the mirror. “I’m right Daisy; don’t let your Father or Uncle Arthur fool you. Bond isn’t everything he is cracked up to be.” Daisy squeals up at him. “You’re right I do look good. I should take your Uncle out for his birthday shouldn’t I? Would you like to come? I don’t know. You don’t own a suit that doesn’t snap Missy. Maybe when you’re older Mr. Giacomo will make you your own.”

“Of course! I shall dress you in the finest silks piccola you will be the bell of any ball.” Daisy blows an impressive stream of bubbles at them. “But maybe that will be in a few years.”

Daisy is drifting against him when they leave the store half an hour later Eames’ credit card is a good deal lighter but he’s at least managed to find some nice things to spoil Arthur with which is always a day well spent.

“We’ll get you home and to bed little one and then I need to find a good hiding spot for these things. I wonder if we still have Uncle Arthur’s hat box.”


	4. Baking and Parisian Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story in two locations and with two webcams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Darlings, 
> 
> This chapter is for many people as always but especially my amazing butterfly kitten NBT Darling ;-) who sent me the original gifs that inspired a large part of this. Thank you for keeping us all in glorious images Pureimaginatrix. 
> 
> I felt very odd about writing this story given half the premise was Arthur being in Paris. I love Paris, a large portion of my family live around the city itself and after what happened I decided to change the premise of this chapter and the plan for the rest of this fic. It was always supposed to revolve around Eames to a degree but I had intended for this chapter to be more of a love story to a city I hold very close to my heart. 
> 
> I have left a flavor of that in the end paragraph but have instead folded in some humor and some of my favorite characters from NBT. 
> 
> This is quite rough as I have balanced finishing it with looking after the two youngest people in my life (My Godchildren) and a lingering illness I can't seem to shake. Either way if there are any hideous errors please point them out and I'll change them before this get's to my beta who is in the middle of her PHD work. 
> 
> Love and kisses to all of you!
> 
> RMJ X

“Darling!” Eames shouts at the screen before turning away and leaving Arthur with a fine view of his seemingly flour covered back.

“Eames…what are you doing?”

Eames does not answer immediately; he bends at the waist and starts making a racket in what Arthur assumes in the pan cupboard. He stands again looking victoriously at the cookie sheet he has pulled out.

“We are baking.”

“We?” Arthur asks amused. Eames nods and spins the screen so Arthur has a clear view of their kitchen and the small army of friends Eames seems to have invited over.

“Oh hello everyone,” Arthur calls and waves in a way he hopes comes off as entirely comfortable rather than mildly bewildered. “Sorry Eames I didn’t know you had company. I’ll call back later.” Arthur tries to edge away from the screen slightly when suddenly it is full of Eames face once more looking very much like a kicked puppy.

“But Darling I haven’t spoken to you in ages.”

“Eames it’s been ten hours. I was asleep.” Arthur explains for the umpteenth time this week because no matter how often they travel Eames never seems to get the hang of time zones.

“I know Darling like I said forever!” Eames says emphatically and continues to look overly dejected with an exaggerated pout and a quivering bottom lip it takes less than a minute for Arthur to break and begin laughing.

“Well I’m sorry for sleeping love but you have company at the moment.” Arthur points out.

Julia calls out that they ‘don’t mind all the love’ and enough people laugh that Arthur knows he will be blushing. Eames is beaming like an idiot because Eames always manages to bask in the attention he gets rather than finding it vaguely mortifying; a key example being the time they got whistled at multiple times just walking through South End on a Friday night. Eames had blamed most of the awareness on Arthur wearing his favourite jeans for a night out for once but Arthur was of the opinion the mostly unbuttoned shirt Eames had ended up in was drawing the most interest.

“See poppet they don’t mind. But just for you I shall move rooms and leave the baby in our friends’ very capable hands.” Eames did a ridiculous half bow to the screen causing Arthur to snort.

“Just don’t leave her with Julia.” Arthur teases and Julia yells out in mock outrage from somewhere off screen.

“Oh good point, we all remember last time don’t we?” Eames says. There’s an affirmative slightly judging noise rumbling around the kitchen and Eames spins the camera again so Arthur can see Julia hiding from the nods by burying her head in Paul’s shoulder where he sits holding Daisy who is mashing her hands happy in the flour dust and bowls of cake mixture on the breakfast bar.

 “Matt take care of the baby! She’s your responsibility.”  Eames orders and Matt salutes vaguely before swooping in to claim Daisy who giggles happily and claps her filthy hands in his face.

Eames moves through the rooms of their house and Arthur can see little snap shots of rooms he tries to name while Eames tries to find the perfect place to settle. He ends up in one of the formal rooms; Arthur thinks it’s the room they once turned into a gaming paradise but he’s not sure.

“Ah privacy at last. Hello Kitten.” Eames says. Arthur blushes and moves in close to the camera to blow a kiss which Eames returns enthusiastically. “How did you sleep?” Eames asks.

“It was fine.” Arthur says shuffling in the hard backed chair before giving up and grabbing one of the multiple cushions from the bed.

“No odd dreams this time?” Eames asks mildly concerned.

Arthur had been subjected to his minds version of a practical joke the night before when his dream had involved a giant floating clown’s head chasing him down deserted corridors. He has not been to the circus in decades but still the one visit he took with his Grandfather and his one interaction with a clown had clearly been enough to traumatise him.

“No just the usual sex dreams.” Arthur winks because Eames has always liked it when he does that.

“Oh don’t tease Darling.” Eames growls and Arthur laughs because his dream actually did involve him being naked and dancing but it was anything but sexy. Arthur was actually a very good dancer but dreams rarely reflected reality; especially when the dream involved Arthur being a stripper.

“What did you do today?” Arthur asks to distract Eames because he was getting that devilish seduction look on his face and that never leads to anything good when they were so far apart; extended foreplay only being advisable when jet lag would not be a very real factor in their reunion plans.

“We went shopping; picked up baking supplies. It’s the animal shelter’s annual charity thing later so people figured we’d make some cookies.”  They went every year; it was something Eames liked to use his celebrity for the re-housing of abandoned animals. They had filmed a special during their second year of Love it or List it where they had spent a few weeks finding and designing a new animal shelter in one of the towns surrounding Boston. The gifs from that episode were favourites on Tumblr.

“Are you planning on going and falling in love with all the puppies again?” Arthur teases.

“Pretty much” Eames says with a grin and a shrug “I had to promise Harry on the phone this morning that I wouldn’t buy Daisy one.” Eames does his exaggerated pout again. “Which I have to say is massively unfair Darling because can you imagine how adorable Daisy would look with a puppy of her own?”

“Eames, I imagine the objection has little to do with the aesthetic and more to do with the fact they already have a very lovely dog and a baby. There house is pretty full right now.” Eames scoffs in response but fails to argue so Arthur decides sanity has prevailed this time. In any case Paul would likely be accompanying them and Arthur knows he can trust Paul to hold back Eames from the majority of overly indulgent ‘Uncle Moments’.

“Maybe we could have one Darling. We would make excellent dog parents.” They had this conversation multiple times a year and it always went the same way.

“I think it’s a something we should think about more before making a decision.” Arthur says quickly.

“But Darling they’re all going to be there today and I’m just going to want to take them all home.”

“I know Eames but I would need to do research and we would have to prepare the house properly. Any dog we adopt should be able to come into a readymade dog paradise. Also we would need to pick a breed, which again requires research and consider the fact we travel a fair deal for work. In addition if we got a big dog it would be difficult to travel with over long distances and you wanted to visit your parents this summer.” Arthur always tries to be reasonable about this because it is in no way something he objects to. he would love a dog, had wanted one since he was a child living in a tiny New York apartment, but there was a time for such things and he just was not convinced this was the right moment for the pair of them to commit to an animal who would need so much of their attention.

“But Darling we could leave it with someone if we went away.” Eames says hopefully.

“We could but what if no one is available? Would you want to rely on a kennel to look after them?” Arthur asks, it is a little unfair because he knows Eames would hate to leave their dog, if they had one, in a kennel because he would worry the animal was lonely and would feel abandoned which would lead to weeks full of guilt and a high number of guilt gifts to make the animal like them again.

Eames looks thoroughly miserable and Arthur is starting to get there himself the longer this goes on.

“I am not saying no Eames, I’d never say no. I love dogs you know that and if you think this is the right time than I’m ready to go and rescue as many as you set your heart on. We can turn what little garden we have into a Dog’s dream yard. It doesn’t matter to me but I want to be prepared and I want to be able to research. I would also like to be with you when we pick him or her out because that seems like something we should do together honestly. “

“I know Darling.” Eames says.

“You sure? Because you look heartbreakingly unhappy and there’s still thirty hours until I see you in person and can kiss those ridiculous lips again.” Arthur points out with a coaxing smile.

“I’m sure. But you’re alright if we talk more about it when you get home?”

“Definitely Eames it can be the very first thing if you like.” Arthur smiles sweetly up at Eames broadening grin.

“I don’t think it should be the very first thing Darling.” Eames says waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh no? Why what did you have in mind?”Arthur asks and starts to laugh when Eames checks the room and starts popping buttons with a raised eyebrow. Arthur muffles his sniggering behind his hand when Eames flashes his nipples at the camera.  Eames likes to mock his attractiveness sometimes and the look he gets on his face when he does makes him appear awfully young.

Where Arthur will walk a red carpet smiling sweetly for fans and trying his best to look suave for the cameras Eames mocks the entire establishment. If Arthur dares let go of his hand for a moment Eames will dart off to mingle with the people that have come to see them; he would spend happy hours posing for selfies, pulling ridiculous poses and telling fans any and all self deprecating stories he can think of ranging from tales of his on set antics to how Arthur is a saint to put up with him. This Arthur thinks this is why Eames is the most loved; the favourite son of HGTV because Eames manages to combine the perfect amount of manic dreamer with an emphatic love for the people that make an effort to see them and support the careers they have chosen for themselves.

Arthur excels at interviews and moments where he has had time to prepare answers and the message he wants to spread but Eames, Eames simply excels with people. He presents them with the perfect image of himself to make them like him. Arthur notices it more now. Years of being wholly in love with the man have helped him open his eyes to the way Eames shifts roles depending on who is surrounded by and interacting with. It has always been Arthur’s honour, he thinks, to know the private Eames. The Eames he knows is shared with no one else. His Eames just as he is Eames’ Darling.

“Are you alright Darling? You’ve gone very thoughtful all of a sudden.” Eames asks looking concerned while he sits in one of their rarely used state rooms with his shirt hanging open, tattoos displayed in all their glory and with his nipples pebbled by the cold. God he loves this man.

“I just love you is all.” Arthur says simply and Eames smiles like Arthur knew he would.

“I love you to Darling. You come home tomorrow. I’m very excited about that fact.”

“Me too.”

“Good.”

“EAMES.” Arthur hears Paul bellow from off screen moments before the fire alarm starts to blare through the speakers.

“Ah, that doesn’t sound good does it pet.”

“Not really Eames. Go save my kitchen, don’t let Julia break anything.”

“I won’t sweetheart. Call me later?”

“Of course. Give my Daisy a kiss for me won’t you?”

“I always do.”

“Good and take lots of pictures with the dogs.”

Eames nods while frantically buttoning his shirt. Arthur notices his he has missed a few buttons but decides just to let him run instead.

“I love you Darling. Have fun on your last day.” Arthur nods and waves just as a loud crash draws Eames gaze and the call ends.

***

The answer to the cause of the kitchen drama arrives half an hour later later while Arthur, Joe and Ariadne are walking across Pont de Bir-Hakeim. The bridge itself is nothing special to Arthur who has walked the streets of Paris a few times in his life and is more in love with the aesthetic of Pont Marie or Pont Alexandre III, with their classic Parisian feel and the extravagant nature of their design, then this more modern construction. Ariadne however is in raptures at seeing and walking across a structure designed by Jean-Camille Formigé. She is leaning against the railing staring into the depths of the Seine, having her picture captured by Joe and his ridiculously large camera, when the picture message comes through.

Arthur laughs so hard he has to hand over the phone to explain rather than attempt to articulate some semblance of a sentence.  Framed in the centre of the image is Daisy her normally perfectly quaffed hair covered in what looks to be blue pouring fondant icing. The stuff is rolling down her bright red face while she sits screaming her displeasure at Julia who looks close to tears kneeling next to her in the flour and egg mess covering the floor.

“What the hell happened?” Joe asks holding back his own laugh while Ariadne clings to his arm. Arthur swipes across the screen to show the message that had accompanied the image.

**Darling I hve 2 keep a closer eye on Julia >> seems can’t manage to walk through the kitchen without tripping over Dearest Daisy! Daisy vry :’(!!!!!!!!! might have 2 buy puppy now xoxoxo**


	5. Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter! Only ridiculously late in posting *much sighing about how unorganized I am*
> 
> I hope you're all having a happy holidays and that the New Year treats you well. 
> 
> Much love from 
> 
> MJ & Peanut
> 
> xox

Eames wakes to blinding light and Daisy poking him on the bridge of his nose.

“I suppose you’re awake now poppet.” Eames says pulling Daisy more securely onto his chest. She spreads herself out so her head is tucked under his chin and fingers tap the lines of a tattoo she can see peaking out under his t shirt sleeve.

“I got that one when I went away with Daddy for the first time.” Eames explains “We spent a week in New Orleans drinking far too many tasty drinks and dancing with far too many pretty people. Daddy had been dating Mummy for a little while so his dancing was very respectful but your Uncle Eames was broken hearted over Uncle Arthur so his dancing was very improper.”

Daisy starts gumming at his t shirt and Eames feels grateful that he remembered to change it before getting into bed. “Your Uncle Eames has made many mistakes Daisy.”

Daisy makes a short noise of annoyance and Eames shifts in response sitting up so she can rest against his knees. Daisy entertains herself for a short while holding her body up leaning against his hands and bouncing against his chest. It would be better the break her of that habit before she gets much bigger Eames reflects.

“We should get you some breakfast Daisy. Daddy and Uncle Arthur will be back in the States in two hours. Are you excited? Because I am, Ariadne will be back as well but that probably interests you less.” He explains as we walks out of his and Arthur’s bedroom and downstairs. He manages to get Daisy strapped into her highchair without much fuss and presents her with a stuffed octopus toy to keep her entertained while he navigates the cupboards and toaster. The marmite toast he presents her with minutes later is subjected to an intense glare before being mashed between two fists, flung off its plate and exclaimed over when it lands on the floor.

“Alright so you’re not in the mood for toast Little Love. What about fruit?” Eames asks around the last of his own marmite slathered bread. He starts slicing banana after collecting the apple sauce and considers what other food items he could puree and tempt her with. It seems odd to him to serve her what is essentially a condiment as a main meal, apple sauce belongs with large cuts of roast pork in his mind. The apple gets eaten very happily but the banana gets rubbed into the plastic highchair table.

“Ba ba ba ba.” Daisy starts chanting while slapping her hands in the mess. Eames head snaps up and the small knife he was using to slice a plum for himself slips and runs across the top of two of his fingers.

“Bollocks.” Eames swears under his breath.

Daisy babbles louder when Eames runs off to the kitchen to run his wound under the cold tap.

“Ba ba ba ba ba da da ba.”

“It’s okay Daisy Uncle Eames has just nicked himself.”

“Ba Ba Ba.” Daisy shouts out and Eames hears the sound of a plastic baby dish being thrown to the ground accompanied shortly after by what he thinks might be a plastic beaker.

Eames wraps his hand in a clean tea towel and pops his head around a pillar to check on Daisy who continues to mash the remnants of her banana between her palms. Her happy squeals get louder when she notices Eames face, she holds up all ten of her fingers to show him fruit based chaos she has created and Eames laughs. She looks so delighted with her own mess that he snaps a few pictures to show Arthur before grabbing the surface wipes.

“Goodness you’re a mess baby girl. Maybe we should have a bath before everyone arrives? What do you think.” Eames asks and receives a glob of banana on his cheek in response.

***

Arthur is expecting to drive into a disaster area. After a week of just Eames and Daisy he is a little surprised their house is still standing. He pulls Joe’s SUV up alongside Eames custom designed front windows and Arthur has yet to see any major alterations or damage. The garden looks to be in the same state it was when he left; the grass perhaps a little longer and their resilient wisteria spreading out from its’ normally controlled trellis but all in all not bad for a short absence.

Joe snuffles in his sleep his mouth open and warm breath leaving a slight fog to appear on the passenger side window deciding to leave the man to his impromptu nap Arthur climbs out of the car to go in search of his fiancé and Goddaughter.

He cracks the door open, braces himself for the worst his imagination has cooked up but finds nothing. There is no waiting destruction; no broken glass, no abandoned sketches or scribbles, no loose craft supplies or abandoned toys. He picks up the only piece of baby belongings he can see, a small stuffed elephant Maggie had sent from England, tucking the toy under his arm he notes the empty lounge and wanders toward the kitchen.

The house is as near to pristine as any structure that contains an Eames can hope to be. He pokes his head into the kitchen and again comes up with nothing. The detritus of baby breakfast lies in the sink and concerning a slightly bloody fruit knife lays alongside the minor mess but the first aid kit is out on the side with the roll of blue band aids having hanging over the side so Arthur feels he has enough information to come up with a likely cause for any injury Eames may have sustained.

“Eames” Arthur calls wandering upstairs and toward Daisy’s room. When he receives no response he opens the door just wide enough to look in and he finds the pair cocooned in what looks like every blanket in the house. Arthur thinks he can make out the feathered edging of Eames Viewing Day gift to him peaking out beneath his Goddaughter. Daisy rests on her back between two large pillows her curls cushioning her head and clashing slightly against the snap suit choice Eames has made for her today, she has stretched out her right arms towards Eames sleeping form at some point during her nap.

Arthur kneels beside Eames and plants a light kiss under his one visible ear. He watches Eames face scrunch up as it does every day that Arthur has to wake him up for one reason or another. Arthur indulges himself and plants another kiss on the slight crow’s feet that have begun to develop around Eames eyes and is treated to a deep grunt in response.  Arthur laughs lightly at the response, Eames cave man impressions are one of his favourites. He hears Daisy shuffle in her sleep her arm falling off the pillow and instead stretching out above her head her tiny fist opening and closing as if reaching for something. Arthur decides against waking either of them and instead removes his shoes and restricting jacket before wrapping himself around Eames and sneaking a cold hand under the man’s loose grey t-shirt.

“Just so you know if you’re anyone but Arthur I will be removing your hand from your arm very shortly.” Eames threatens; the ferociousness of the statement is impacted heavily by the loud yawn that accompanies it while Eames stretches out and surreptitiously rubs himself against Arthur’s body.

Arthur hums against Eames neck and lays a series and small kisses against Eames hair line and tightens his grip. “It’s a good thing my name is Arthur then.”

Eames sighs and shuffles himself back so there is no gap at all between his back and Arthur’s chest.  “Hello Love” Eames mutters running a hand gently across the arm Arthur has around him “I’ve missed you.” He whispers before slipping the same hand over his shoulder to caress Arthur’s face gently.

“I missed you as well.” Arthur murmurs running his hands over Eames chest reacquainting himself with all the tiny imperfections that make Eames body different from anyone else’s. He pays special attention to two in particular this time, tracing them and learning their individual shapes and textures once more. There are a tiny series of scars just under Eames left pectoral left over from when he had the chicken pox as a teenager and then the longer scar from a more serious wound; the time Eames was mugged in London and refused to hand over his Grandfather’s watch, his mother had cried for a week over that one Eames said. Moving on to his ribs Arthur could make out the slight difference in the two that had been broken when Eames came off his motor bike aged eighteen.  “No new injuries to add to your long list?” Arthur asks while nuzzling and nipping Eames shoulders softly through his T-shirt.

“No,” Eames says; rolling over onto his back when Arthur urges him to and lying perfectly still while Arthur covers his face in chaste kisses, closing his eyes so the man can include his eyelids in the steady stream of affection. “Daisy kept me out of trouble.”

“She’s good at that,” Arthur agrees taking a break from peppering Eames with love to peek down at the girl in her snug bundle. “She looks perfect.”  He says with a grin.

“No permanent damage,” Eames agrees “we are getting close to a first word though.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires disbelievingly.

“Oh yes, today she started two whole words all by herself.”

“So she made some noises.” Arthur asks raising a doubting eyebrow.

“Yes but they were quite defined noises. I’m telling you Darling we’re getting close.”

“She would be quite young for a first word Eames.” Arthur points out.

“Beside the point Darling; Daisy is brilliantly clever you know. “

Arthur nods his head conceding the point. 

“What were they then?” Arthur asks after lying back down with his head resting on Eames stomach.

“What was what?” Eames asks distracted as he is by running his fingers through Arthur slightly curled hair. “You should always have your hair like this Darling and you should wear your glasses.”

“No that would be spoiling you. The sounds you said Daisy made.” Arthur prompts while relaxing back into the impromptu scalp massage.

“Oh right well one was Da.”

“And Joe’s ego just grew ten sizes.” Arthur comments wryly.

“I know and the second; brace yourself for this Darling, was Ba.”

Arthur pauses wondering why his heart is suddenly beating faster he cocks his head slightly and looks up at Eames.

“Wait you don’t mean…” Arthur starts and then moans in residual embarrassment.

Eames starts to make sheep noises under his breath. Arthur feels himself flushing as the full meaning of that particular noise strikes him.

“Oh fucking hell.” Arthur swears and Eames bursts out into irrepressible laughter.


End file.
